


When We Started Counting

by maltango



Category: Terminator (Movies), Terminator - All Media Types, Terminator: Dark Fate
Genre: F/F, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maltango/pseuds/maltango
Summary: If sending Grace back is a closed loop, then it has happened both an infinite number of times, and only once, simultaneously.
Relationships: Grace/Dani Ramos
Comments: 36
Kudos: 140





	When We Started Counting

**Author's Note:**

> I adore T1 and T2, and Dark Fate was practically made for me. It's all I've thought about for the last month and I couldn't be happier. Feel free to talk to me about it, I have So Many Thoughts.

"Remember -" 

"Keep our weapons safe. I know." 

"And -" 

"Don't get separated." Grace pressed her hand over the side of her abdomen, the heat from her palm burning the fresh tattoo just slightly through her cotton shirt. "I won't forget, Commander, I promise." 

Grace turned to leave the commander's office; the commander caught her wrist. 

"Grace. When you go back… tell her…" 

Grace could track the hesitation in every inch of her commander's small frame. The way the inner corners of her eyes tightened; the downward turn of her lips. The little half-breaths, like she was battling with her own words. 

Grace's augmentations allowed her to process the moment in bullet time. LED lamplight glittered in the commander’s eyes as she turned her gaze upwards. Grace focused on the comforting, familiar striations of rich brown, and refused to let herself think about the tears collecting in her commander’s eyes. 

“...Tell her that this is the fifth time. From when we started counting,” the commander finished, her voice catching as if the words were painful. Grace committed the phrase to memory and refused to let herself think about it, too. 

~ 

Dani lived. 

Grace died when she threw herself into industrial machinery, to make sure the Rev-9 was destroyed along with her. 

~ 

“Tell her that this is the ninth time. From when we started counting.” 

~ 

Dani lived. 

Grace died when she used herself to channel over 10,000 volts of electricity into the Rev-9. 

~ 

“Tell her that this is the eleventh time. From when we started counting.” 

~ 

Dani lived. 

Grace died to trap the Rev-9 in what was essentially a giant microwave. 

~ 

“Tell her that this is the fourteenth time-” 

“-the eighteenth time-” 

“-the twenty-third time-” 

“-from when we started counting.” 

~ 

Dani lived. 

Grace died. 

Grace died. 

Grace died. 

~ 

“I won’t let her die for me again.” 

“Then you need to be ready.” 

~ 

“Tell her that this is the twenty-fifth time-” 

~

“-From when we started counting!” Dani dropped her face into her palms with a gasp. “How many times did it happen _before_ we started counting?” 

“Time travel’s a bitch,” Sarah drawled, chasing her words with tequila. 

“What am I going to do?” 

“Get drunk?” 

“I’m supposed to be the saviour of humanity, and I can’t even save _one_ person after twenty-five tries-!” 

“ _At least_ twenty-five tries. How many times did it happen _before_ you started counting?” 

“Sarah, you’re not helping!” 

Sarah gulped down more tequila, then offered it to Dani. Dani shook her head, so Sarah drank Dani’s share as well. 

“Sarah, I -” Dani rubbed at her eyes, then stared down at her hands. “I _keep_ sending her back to save me, and she _keeps_ dying. How - how can I _do_ that?” 

Sarah stared into the contours of the bottle, analysing a future long-gone. “It’s war, Dani. You do what you have to.” 

“What’s the point, if I have to be as heartless as the machines I’m fighting? I don’t want to _be_ that person.” 

Dani stared at the rosy sunset through the window of the parked car, tears clinging to her eyelashes. Sarah dropped the passenger seat back and plonked her feet on the dashboard. 

“Well, look at it this way. No matter how many times she dies, you keep trying to save her. You don't give up, and you don't lose hope, and you _don't stop_." 

Dani blinked in surprise and looked over to her companion. Sarah swirled the last of the tequila around in the bottom of the bottle before speaking again. 

"Seems to me, that's exactly who you are, and exactly who you need to be." 

Dani nodded slowly and straightened in her seat, placing her hands on the steering wheel. 

~ 

"Thirty times. 'From when we started counting,' she said, which probably means it's happened more than thirty.” Dani pushed the fingers of one hand through her thick hair, the other arm supporting her weight on the table. 

“Maybe you should stop counting,” Sarah suggested from where she was lying on the couch. “You can drive yourself crazy thinking about this kind of thing. Believe me.” 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve sent her here to die for me more than thirty times in a row. I’m a monster.” 

“You are not a monster,” Carl, sitting across the table from her, insisted. “Time travel is not that simple. If sending Grace back is a closed loop, then it has happened both an infinite number of times, and only once, simultaneously.”

“Can you just - stop talking,” Sarah groaned. “If I have to listen to your voice any more, I’m going to throw up.” 

“Then perhaps you should stop drinking,” Carl suggested. 

“Perhaps _you_ should make yourself useful and get me more potato chips,” Sarah shot back, snapping her fingers in the direction of the kitchen. 

Whether out of mercy or self-preservation, Carl carried the shopping bag over to the couch, where Sarah was nursing her broken ankle and her third can of beer. When he returned to the table of their rented motel room, he and Dani waited until they heard the rustle of a chip packet opening before they started speaking again. 

“By ‘closed loop’ - you mean I’ll always send her back? And she’ll always die?”

“If it is a truly stable loop, then that would be the case.” 

Dani fixed him with a defiant glare. “No. I don’t accept that.” 

“Good. Sarah and I are proof that the future can be changed.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Sarah snapped. “But Pinnochio’s right. As long as you don’t give up on her, she still has a chance.” 

Dani sat up straight, bracing herself against the back of the chair with a short huff. 

“I _am_ going to save her.” 

~

The woman who saved her didn’t look like much. She was short, and unusually pretty for someone living in the wastelands. But she moved like lightning, and spoke with fire. 

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“Grace.” 

“Grace... I’m Daniella. Dani.”

Dani looked at her, really _looked_ at her and _saw_ her. Saw her as a person, rather than a target. Dani's eyes were kind, and her hands were gentle; qualities that had proved as rare as food and medicine since Judgement Day. Grace, not yet fully grown, was already taller than Dani. But standing beside her, Grace felt safe for the first time since her father was killed. 

She followed Dani to the entrance of the ruined building, and with a gesture the woman summoned a crowd of scavengers. No, not scavengers - Grace could tell by the way they moved, and the way they looked at her saviour: they were an organised squad. United under Dani. 

A broad hand landed gently on Grace's shoulder. She looked up to find it belonged to a blonde woman about Dani’s age, muscular and improbably tall. 

"Grace," she said. Her eyes were the colour the sky used to be. "That's a pretty name." 

Grace looked up in time to catch the warm gaze the two women shared. The corners of their eyes crinkled, and on her shoulder, Grace felt Dani’s hand interlace with the tall woman’s. 

They guided Grace down the rubble to her new community, their hands still linked over Grace’s back. Dani chuckled breathlessly. 

“The first time,” she said. The tall woman scoffed. 

“We still counting?”


End file.
